


Thread of Weaving (Fate)

by Reader_as_YourName20



Series: It's going to be, meant to be (us) [1]
Category: Dracula & Related Fandoms, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Elizabeth Holmwood is the Reader, Experimenting for fun, F/F, I need to get this off my chest, I'm trying to do something new here, Series, Yep it's lesbian, will be lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25359022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reader_as_YourName20/pseuds/Reader_as_YourName20
Summary: It'll fascinate and you find farce,That you could confidently say that you know fate.It push and shove, so it could lead you.Yet you could still confuses fate.It follows you. It loves you.And you still pick your chances with fate
Relationships: Athenodora/Reader, Didyme/Reader, Esme Cullen/Reader, Irina Denali/Reader, Kate Denali/Reader, Lesbians - Relationship, Rosalie Hale/Reader, Sulpicia/Reader, Tanya Denali/Reader
Series: It's going to be, meant to be (us) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843093
Kudos: 14





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya~
> 
> It's your fellow Reader, just here to tell you some bits about this new story.
> 
> This is actually been in my storage drive for so long that I've forgotten about it. I wrote this like maybe 5 years ago?? It's a Twilight Fanfiction, multi-pairing, of course, but the story I will be writing will be different for each character.
> 
> I can't promise quick services of chapters, I might even forget about this again since I'm focused on my Harry Potter Fanfiction (check it out UwU) but I just really wanted to post this here now because I'm going to have to delete everything in my storage, cleaning whatever I put in there. So yeah, enjoy!!

> Prologue

Aren’t I supposed to be dead?

I woke up in the dark, the lack of air supposed to be suffocating me. I knew it’s supposed to, even wearing this tiny corset choked me, providing little space for me to move, to breathe. I hated wearing corsets. My mother adores it. And it hangs as reminders of his hand firm on my neck, his smile taking away my strength; it told me what it feels like to be unable to breathe… 

Still, I hadn’t inhaled any air for an hour to an end. Days, weeks, how long had I been here?

Yet, I do not find myself needing to breathe, though the extending of my lungs as I inhale, and the air I breathe out has only been done out of habit. I _knew_ I was supposed to breath. And that’s not the only extraordinary going on. 

Darkness…

I hated being in the dark; my mother told tales of what hides in the shade, what power it holds towards the weakness of humanity, what may happen in the dusk… _Why_ I must never let myself be left alone in the company of shadows. It traumatizes me, reminds me of corridors where I’d fasten the pace of my short legs on, merely to visit the master’s bedroom in hope for a bed companion.

I hate it merely because it switches off my sight and my mind screams _“danger_ ” “ _danger!_ ” “ _DANGER!!_ ” And now… as the shadow blinds me, trap me, I can see. I can _see_ nothing as I lay nonmoving in my death as I wait…

And I waited seemingly for nothing. 

But I knew something was coming… _closer_ , somehow I knew it was getting closer.

Oddly I could feel the cold; I could feel the heat… I could feel no heart beat in me, nothing else but the burn that irritates my throat. I feel thirsty, thirsty to what they’re offering.

I could hear the haste around me, on the other side of this little casket that kept me trapped, and I’ve been unwilling to go out while she beckons me, taunts me, while _they_ celebrate life the undead doesn’t deserve, that _I’m_ not worthy of.

And tired, I felt tired and I tried to close my eyes, to permanently surrender to death all had spoken of in fear. I’m willing to welcome it with open arms. Just please… I’m praying to every God there is… just stop this madness bestowed on me. I could not bear the thought of such mortality, this capability to _not die_.

…Yet even in my sleep, I am awake, waiting.

I needed not to scream, I did not call for help, only tolerated the laughter of the woman I once knew, restrained myself as I’m tempted by the sweet, mouth-watering scent that the two of them would draw so close to my mausoleum. But I kept myself still, because fear strikes me each night, the confusion of how much _desire_ I can feel flooding my senses in their wake.

“You cannot ignore it, my dear, soon.” He continued to taunt me again tonight, and I can _imagine_ his smile as he spoke to me oh-so _-knowingly_. “It’s what sooth the burn, my dear. It is what you’ll crave, and you will feed, _soon_. You need it. I know you’ll be crawling out of hiding and soon join your mother and I in drinking the mortals’ blood! I’ve been waiting to have my hand on another; soon, and your foolish father and his friends, and _that Dr. Helsing_ will die in my hand.”

And I wonder, why?

Why hadn’t I listened to Dr. Helsing when I had the chance?


	2. Holmwood Family

**Chapter 1**

Under 9 mouths of nurturing, she was finally born.

Lucy Holmwood, nee Westenra, carried her dear infant girl in her arms, coddling the girl softly as she hum a lovely lullaby to lurk the baby back to her peaceful kip this afternoon, and her lovely husband, an Englishman in the name of Arthur Holmwood, that had heritage his father’s fortune (and also, soon, the title of Lord Godalming), smiles as he watched his wife with his newly born daughter in their chamber. 

A knock on the door signaled the arrival of their dear friend, Dr. John Seward, and Arthur hurried and opened the door as quietly as he could. He let the doctor in with a genuine, yet tired smile. He and his wife hadn't had a proper sleep yet no regret was on their mind, his darling daughter merely wanted both of their attention before falling back to sleep each night.

“Here again to check on us, I suppose, Dr. Seward?” he murmurs, a playful tone making the kind and soft-spoken young man smile in return.

“Please, Arthur, my dear friend, aren’t I allowed to visit Lucy and my sweet little goddaughter?” John whispered back, afraid to bother the recent mother with her daughter in the room. Sparing the man a glance, John added “And had I told you before, you stubborn nutter, to finally call me John. The pleasantries had quite grown old.”

Though John, mostly known as Dr. John Steward, is merely an employee to their local insane asylum in their town, his friends tend to call him for a job he doesn’t actually study. In the faint of heart, John still provides his service especially to the beautiful damsel, Lucy, as one of her trusted acquaintances.

Though it still hurt that his proposal was declined, John had been content to stay as friends with Lucy and be Arthur’s best man in their wedding, alongside Quincy P. Morris. And his ties to Lucy only grew when Elizabeth Holmwood was born.

“John, is she alright?” Lucy tiredly inquired as she let the man inspect the girl as she slept safely after placing her safely in her cradle.

“I assure you, dear Lucy; your baby girl is very healthy.” John assured the young mother and let Arthur pull Lucy close with a goofy, proud smile on his face. John snaps out of his musing towards the couple though, when he felt a small hand grip his index finger. He was awed to see the little one smiling at him as she held tightly on his finger. “She’s gorgeous, I say.”

“She is, John.” stated Arthur, wiggling his own finger to attract the little one, which he successfully did. “I could never thank you enough for helping my mother-in-law deliver my baby girl. I know we are pushing you out of your expertise, John, but I thank you still. Know that I am in debt to your kindness, my friend.”

“Say nothing of it, Arthur, anything for you two, I will do no matter which needs to be done, and now, especially for little Elizabeth.”

“Oh John,” Lucy cried, embracing her friend, “you’re truly godsend. Thank you.”

* * *

“Mumma, are you feeling any better?”

Eliza, now in the age of 17 years old, sat on the edge of her sick mother’s bed. The woman had become unbelievably pale and weak in the span of days, and what used to be her full blonde hair had begun to dull too as the woman became unable to stand on her own two feet. 

No longer was she able to walk around with Elizabeth around the town. 

Blue eyes beam weakly and Lucy smiles at her little girl. “I will be dear; your Uncle John will help me get better. He said he’s getting help from his old teacher, hopefully his mentor will come to our aid.” 

Elizabeth had heard; the supposed Calvary called eccentric by the name of Dr. Abraham Van Helsing was coming to England at the request of her Uncle John. She hasn’t heard of such a name before but trusting how intellectual her Uncle John had become, Elizabeth trusts what miracle the other doctor might make. 

“I greatly hope so.” Elizabeth sighs, holding the teddy bear her father gifted to her just her last birthday, “Get well soon, mumma.”

“Come dear,” Elizabeth’s grandmother –who had politely waited for Elizabeth by the door –beckons, smiling down at Elizabeth after sparing Lucy a worried glance, “let’s go and play in the garden. Let’s leave your mother to rest.”

And it took the man five more days to arrive.

Elizabeth thought of him silly, he was Dutch and Elizabeth had a hard time understanding half of what he’s saying most of the time but what she liked about Dr. Van Helsing is his smile. It was gentle, the eyes that look down on her held knowledge a child herself couldn’t yet understand.

He was very aloof though, playful, and let Elizabeth stay as he checked on her mother with John, while the younger doctor persisted in not injecting mad news on a maiden mind, especially to his goddaughter. 

So his mentor merely suggested the idea and let Elizabeth decide. 

She stays every time. 

And when her father, Arthur, finally advised her to keep out of her mother’s bedroom for a while, Elizabeth wasn’t sure if she should be obliged to the request. She had since discovered that her mother’s illness had gotten worse as the days passed, and both doctors were edging on their daily check-ups and prescription of medicines; but to her surprise, after a long week, her mother was okay again.

Lucy was ecstatic to see her daughter again for the whole day, have the girl telling stories about her day and how much her little Elizabeth missed her. And together, they read Mina Harker’s (née Murray), Lucy’s dear friend, a new letter that arrived after.

“Mumma, what is this word?” Little Elizabeth inquired, utter confusion on her young face as she tried to read the foreign word “Wampyr...?”

“Vampire, dear.” corrected Lucy, pulling her dear girl closer and taking a sniff of her smell she began to adore, “Mina’s dear husband, Jonathan, had seemed to survive a tragedy. He came back home with wounds and story about a blood-sucking vampire he encountered in his business trip in Transalviannya.” And Lucy chuckled in disbelief, wondering why the usual self-assured woman was so quick in believing such folk-tale. 

But as Lucy kept thinking of the ironies of it all, it started to burn. Her thirst grew and her conscience grew wary. She clenches her burning throat as the delicious scent begins to seduce her, and Lucy could hear the beating, could hear the blood pumping through veins.

“Mumma?”

“Eliza, mumma isn’t feeling well anymore.” She breathes out, holding tightly at the blanket that helps her not with the cold but contain herself. “Go call Dr. Van Helsing for me, please sweetie.” And as soon she asked, Lucy covered her mouth, feeling her own pointy teeth sharpening suddenly.

“…Okay.” 

The little girl nodded, uncertain to leave her mother alone, yet obliged and sent the message to the Doctor.

“She had grown incredibly pale.” John listed the symptoms, and Elizabeth watched Dr. Helsing by the front of the bed, turning serious as second tick by. John stayed oblivious to the doctor that stood behind him and continued to inspect “It’s like… she lost a lot of blood, and oddly, I am sure her teeth hadn’t been this long before.”

“Is mumma going to be alright, Uncle Johnny?” Elizabeth eyed her unconscious mother on the bed, clinging to Lucy’s hand.

“Dear,” Abraham started, “Lucy is merely losing some of her blood.” Though it wasn’t technically an assurance, Elizabeth accepted it and stared at her mother in defeat. 

One of the possibilities is death, Elizabeth is aware, and her father’s cry in his study room nightly confirms that reality.

“We need to act fast,” said Abraham, opening his briefcase and Elizabeth caught a glimpse of a weird artifact (a sharp wood) before the Doctor closed it again, “we need to give her a blood transfusion.”

“Perhaps that’ll be best.” John nodded in agreement, hanging his stethoscope around his neck.

Elizabeth hears rushed footsteps marching closer and the chamber’s room opens to see her fright father bellow “Lucy? Oh Lucy, my love, are you alright?” 

He had returned from his factory of work, feeling tired, only to be greeted by the door by a chambermaid reporting the gathering in the master bedroom.

Abraham faced the man and gestured Arthur to calm down. “Lord Godalming, remain calm. Your timing is actually very punctual, we need you to provide for your wife.”

“I’ll do anything, anything, Dr. Helsing! This case of Tuberculosis had gone too far!” Arthur practically begged, fear of losing his beloved wife haunting him. 

He saw his daughter then and how horrid the girl is as she holds his wife’s hand. 

He sat beside his girls and placed his hand above Elizabeth’s and Lucy’s. “Oh my beautiful Lucy, hold on. We’ll go through this. Together, as a family, okay?”

And Elizabeth finally cried, grieving for her mother, having to curl into her father’s arms.

Elizabeth insisted to her father that she was a big girl, and that she’d stay while the transfusion was ongoing but was ushered out by John and her father. She stayed persistent and waited by the door, ignoring the valets that tried to get her to play with her friends for distraction.

Elizabeth cared not for her play time, and waited.

And when the transfusion was succeeding, Elizabeth had entered her parents’ chamber again to join her exhausted, pale father beside her mother’s bed. 

She spoke none of what she saw, mentioned nothing about the two parallel puncture by her mother’s neck when John was distracted by Abraham, who was setting him a task to be a lookout for Lucy that upcoming night, or when her grandmother had tucked her to bed the next few hours, and when her father joined her when she was unable to sleep without her mother telling her bedtime stories.

They talked under moonlight’s haze, whispering stories to relive them, and soon slept together in hope that their beloved Lucy would be well the next morning as Dr. Van Helsing had forecast.

And their wish had been answered when Elizabeth and Arthur had visited Lucy first thing in the morning after breakfast and saw the young woman smiling whilst she sat gracefully on her bed, accompanied by her relief mother that shredded some tears. 

Arthur had been so delighted and had kissed Lucy all over and Elizabeth joined in with laughter as the morning light blessed them.

* * *

“Doctor…” Elizabeth called, pulling the man by his trench coat, “If I may have some of your time.”

“Miss Holmwood, a guten morgen.” greeted the Dutchman with his usual wide smile, “What can I do for you?”

“Say,” Elizabeth started, her thumb brushing on the front page of her little journal she kept by her Uncle Quincy’s advice, “Auntie Mina had been sending my mother letters about vampire.” and she pretend to be oblivious of the sudden change of his mannerism by the state of alteration on his expression, “I just never got the chance to ask mumma what it really is after she told me. So now, I was hoping you could explain it to me instead.”

“And what made you think I have any familiarity with vampires, dear girl?” Abraham inquired, his stance was curious; bend a little to meet Elizabeth’s eyes.

Elizabeth, now nervous under his observation, clenches her journal close to her chest anxiously. She has no fear towards the Dutch Doctor but does feel obnoxious about what she’s doing, what she wants to know.

Abraham noticed it. “Oh, and what’s this…?”

“T-that is… my journal, Doctor.” confessed Elizabeth, turning a bit shy, “I wanted to write the days I still remember, to keep… things alive.” She got sad at the thought of it, and had subconsciously tightened her hold on the man’s trench coat. “I wanted to write the conversations… the ones that I might count as a treasure.”

“Well,” Abraham sighs and inspects the curious girl before him, “alright.” He kneeled in front of her and lowered his voice “Maybe I could share some knowledge or two.”

* * *

In a few days of that Elizabeth account of her mother doing well with her actually believing that Lucy will be all better starting then, the young woman returned back to square one. Lucy almost fainted in the corridor and was found by one of their maids. 

Pale and weak, getting nausea after being exposed to sunlight for too long and everyone had been talking about the young woman’s change of sleeping schedule. Elizabeth knew that the Dutch Doctor had the same theory as she did.

Elizabeth believed in many things… and this is one of those moments that she knows too much.

But denial was a habit.

Another blood transfusion was done, the blood being donated by John instead of Arthur this time and the woman ended up as fine as she was the day before. 

It was just an ironic thing, such coincidences, Elizabeth thought. It had to be.

And it had to be done again the next week, and her Uncle Quincy was quick to offer his blood in the sake of her mother.

* * *

That night, Elizabeth snuck on the hall and into the chamber that both her parents used to share. Only now, Arthur had mostly slept in his office, stressed and depressed. Quincy had shared some ram and ale with him, hoping to be a friend and let Arthur mourn while they talk. And Elizabeth predicts that her Uncle John was with them at the moment so she was confident that she’ll have her mother alone.

And she hadn’t mistaken the chance.

Elizabeth cringes at the smell that welcomes her.

Dr. Van Helsing had brought and decorated her mother’s room with Garlic flowers, and this made her reconsider things once more. Abraham had been talking to her, warning Elizabeth to be aware and make sure that they won’t be alone together, her and Lucy. But for tonight, Elizabeth will persist, she has to talk to her mother.

“Eliza…” her mother’s voice called for her, weak, dulling from life, and Elizabeth’s heart clenched in dread, fear of the truth that creeps. And how come Lucy knew it was her didn’t cross Elizabeth’s mind.

“I’m here, mumma.” Elizabeth rushed to the side of the bed and was indulged in Lucy’s open arms. And Elizabeth can feel the tears stinging on her eyes, but she kept the tears at bay. She hasn’t even talked to Lucy yet.

“You’re so warm, my dear girl.” murmurs Lucy, pulling her daughter closer as she rests by the crook of Elizabeth’s neck.

In her emotional state, Elizabeth hadn’t comprehended the danger that lurked.

And Lucy sighs and complains “That doctor is killing me.” with a bit of a pout that Elizabeth had giggled at, unsuspecting to how truth that statement might be. “I can’t take those garlic flowers; they sting my nose, my dear. Would you be so kind and get them out? Some fresh air would help me.”

And naïve, young, Elizabeth obeyed. She had thrown the garlic flowers out of the windowpane and left it open under her mother’s request.

“Ah, that’s more like it.” Lucy breathes and beckons the girl to return to her arms. Both cuddled under the cover, yet Elizabeth still shivered upon the coldness she felt radiating from her mother.

“Are you feeling better now, mumma?”

“I am dear, with you here.” Lucy murmured and she whispered, “It’ll all be better now…” before placing a soft kiss on Elizabeth’s forehead. “Sweet Eliza…” the young woman sighed lovingly as she rubs Elizabeth’s back.

Hearing her mother’s soft voice finally made Elizabeth cry.

“My darling girl,” Lucy cups her cheek, wiping the tears away, “Hush now. It’ll all be better soon.”

And Elizabeth doesn’t know when they fell asleep, but it had been cut short when haste became loud, snapping her awake. She registered the lack of her mother’s weight on the bed, the cold, the wind blowing in from the open window –gasp.

An iron grip pulled her up before Elizabeth could open her eyes, locked their hold on her neck, lifting her up –towards someone, before a piercing pain struck her. 

Elizabeth did not scream.

She couldn’t, out of shock. Because of the pain, because of what she saw when her eyes snapped open. Her mother’s golden flocks, pale skin and white, night dress lies on the floor, her mother’s blue eyes dulled out of its life, its light…

Lucy lay unmoving.

Elizabeth couldn’t breathe.

And when the bloodsucker was content, she was dropped to the floor, and Elizabeth presumed that she might die. But as she insists, at least, see who, the tall, thin, dark-cloaked man kneels beside her, red eyes glared as it glows in the dark.

“My sweet little Elizabeth…” he breathed out, his voice gruff, old –ancient. 

He placed his cold hand on her cheek, caressing it, making Elizabeth wonder what it means. 

And his eyes widen slightly as second goes, the girl is still alive. 

“Your heart is becoming weak, yet you still hold life’s grip…” he whispered in further fascination. “… Such strong will.” 

The tear of flesh and the sound it made, the bleeding on his wrist gave Elizabeth horror while the bloodsucker grinned. 

“Let’s see how long you’ll last.” was his last words before Elizabeth’s lips touched the taste of metallic flavor that Elizabeth knew will forever change her.

* * *

And it had been bizarre; how she thirst for that essence, to drink that metallic taste once more had wake her with a burn in her throat. It had been so close, too close, sometimes, how easy it would be to leave her casket and find the source of it.

But Elizabeth just bit her own lip, wound her own self to try and distract herself.

But she was nearing, so close to snapping.

“What are we really doing here, Doctor?” 

Elizabeth stilled when she heard her father’s voice.

She slowly realizes that, of course, she had no heart any longer… and it wasn’t hers she’s hearing.

“We wait.” 

The familiar stern voice of Dr. Van Helsing answered.

And then…

Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat.

Her mouth waters, her fangs sharpened, thirst burns and beckons her. The want becomes a need and the need slowly grows into urges. The sound of heart pumping, blood rushing, smell entering her nostrils and… blood. She smelt blood from a young, slow heart. 

Her mother was back.

Elizabeth stilled again, returning to her (to what’s little left of her) sanity, and kept quiet as voices boomed, words were exchanged and her laughter, that cruel one Elizabeth had memorized after all those countless nights of bodies slump to the ground, drained. 

And silence.

The mortals had run, leaving promises in the air as Lucy, huffing, returned to her coffin to sleep as the daylight near, probably already satisfied with her hunt. Elizabeth closed her eyes and silently sobs, still grieving the mother she had lost, the life she cannot regain back, and the thirst that was beginning to be painful to bear with.

She can’t keep up with this.

Abraham had mentioned that sunlight should be able to burn a vampire… and despite she didn’t want to be, Elizabeth is one of the undead now. With gritted teeth, finally, she comes out, the weight of the marbles bothered her not and she marches out of her mausoleum, only to abruptly stop when he was already outside, waiting with amused eyes.

The tall man smiles smugly and his grin shows how feral his teeth are. His red eyes shone.

And Elizabeth waited.

This time, she waited for the sun to wake by the horizon, and the man was nonmoving too, challenging her with a mere gaze. Yet Elizabeth returned the glare, though compared to him, she was just a child, small, tired and weak, hungry.

But she prayed, may others see her unholy now, Elizabeth still prayed to every God she knew the name of, for the sun to rise and burn the burn that lived within her.

Slowly now, light begins to blind her and slowly the darkness runs away from it, afraid to be exposed so they chase the moon, letting the sun win today like the rest of prior time. And slowly, it crept by her feet, nothing, and higher than it soon touched her skin. 

Elizabeth closed her eyes to prepare herself from the end.

Nothing…

And as her eyes widened to realize that her plan did not work, Dracula continued to smile, amused.

“Did you really believe such a myth, my dear?” he spat. “Did you hope to burn, be turned to ashes, to save yourself from the truth? Hah! You make me laugh. With my blood on your vein, I’m afraid that you’re stuck as a… bloodsucker.” 

He waited for her to learn by herself, Elizabeth thought so too. 

“But I wonder…” he drones on, “You seemingly still remember your old life… such oddities.” He murmurs the last sentence.

And Elizabeth had been oblivious, not until he drew the bleeding body of a man in front of her. And her world shook and before she knew it, she had her mouth sucking every drop of blood from the wounded man.

“Taste so delicious, isn’t it, dear Elizabeth?” he laughed and stepped forward towards the shaking little girl. “You can feel it too, don’t you? How it soothed the fire on your throat, how powerful you’re becoming.” But his praises did nothing to stop the guilt that runs in Elizabeth’s mind and she stood up and back away from her doing, away from her kill. “Don’t deny the thirst, child; you cannot escape my gift to you even if you keep on struggling. It’s a part of you now.”

Elizabeth shook her head, disagreeing. Her hand covers her mouth to stop her sobs from spilling, though she shed no tears, Elizabeth still feels like crying.

“If you could only see what you’re becoming, to be one of my creations and if you let me teach you the ways... Dear girl, you and I… we’ll be powerful. Just accept it and we’ll be unstoppable, we’ll rule this land and every human will be our slave. You can have anything all you want; I will give everything to you, you’d be treated as a queen, my dear.” Dracula trails on before slicing his wrist to. Elizabeth felt hunger cruise through her at the sight and smell of blood. “Just accept me.”

Elizabeth felt like crying, instinct raging, overloading her. And pain, pain of the loss she gained, for the new way she had to walk upon. She was forced; this hadn’t been her in any of her decisions. Lucy had inspired her to make her choices after all, and her dear father had been encouraging, just because Elizabeth was the hair of their family’s name and fortune. 

They both wanted her to learn, be educated enough to be the master of the household if ever life took her parents too soon. And dear Uncle John and her uncle Quincy, both men supported such fate, teaching her to read, to write, to understand the world with open eyes.

And so, in order to honor them, she decides…

If the sun wouldn’t kill her, then she’d place the responsibility on her own hands. 

Elizabeth bolted; entering the frames of the wood, leaving the vampire behind watching her as she went. Elizabeth knew she won’t be in peace if she was to be murdered by humans, she cannot comprehend the thought of putting that on someone’s memory or could she bear the thought of dying, or was she even confident of her control over the need to have, to drink, so she just keep running away.

But it did stick in her mind why the older vampire didn’t relent in letting her go…

And maybe he hadn’t. 

It’s like what he said after all, Elizabeth couldn’t escape him even if she tried.


	3. To be adored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🎵They’re only human  
> They don’t see  
> Who they are is who they’ll always be  
> Only human, after all🎵

**Chapter 2**

Despite the circumstances, it  _ really  _ felt good.

The brush of winds, nothing could stop her as she dashes through the woods in such incredible speed. So fast, no mortals should be able to catch sight of her even if they try. This way, she truly begins to hope that, if she could postpone it for a while, she could escape Count Dracula.

She feels free as she runs for days, ignoring the night sky that bothered her not or the daylight that she grew to despise. At least, the night gave her advantages, to be able to run without a hint of uncertainty with humans awake and moving. 

The sun had no use to her.

Death had been out of the options now too, really. Nothing seems to kill her, no sharp objects, no impact from any height. Honestly, she tried everything she knew was deadly (and what else a 10 years old such herself could possibly know more than those?). 

Attacking a pack of lions just led her learning how to defend herself, the rogue wolves that tried to sneak on her hadn’t had an inch of chance of being near her when Elizabeth had smelt them miles ahead. And to what she had learned under the company of a bear, is that she can break bones as fast she snaps her finger. 

Every danger she encountered only taught her  _ how  _ to survive it.

And now that she finally took a moment to grasp on the new her, Elizabeth distinguishes the  _ changes _ . She notices little details a human eye cannot see, can smell things on a more intense level but what used to be pleasant, such as human foods, are no longer…  _ appetizing _ . She can move really fast now too,  _ which is sort of fun _ to do and never had Elizabeth been able to travel so quickly. And she’s extremely strong, Lucy said that only a man might be able to carry heavy work but now…

Elizabeth can carry a boulder without breaking a sweat.

So yes, these are the changes she had explored in the span of one month. Though, one thing was sure, Elizabeth couldn’t sleep. She can now discriminate that she hadn’t done it ever since waking up in her grave and that closing her eyes didn’t mean she could fall into the arms of slumber.

Sometimes Elizabeth thinks this a dream, which explains each surreal thing.

But when scared, Elizabeth would usually wake up from her nightmare…

And  _ she is  _ scared, even back then and right now, so  _ why hadn’t she woken up _ ?

This had been her life for a month and Elizabeth had been surprised that no one had suspected her when she decided to stay for days in a small village but she knew she cannot stay forever, despite she’s basically immortal now. 

Cursed to forever roam the earth.

And following a river with slow pace, just appreciating the peaceful night while she debated if she could risk staying for another day in this town that hadn’t yet seen her. Maybe Elizabeth could start anew here. But, to what she had learned in her new life, life isn’t all that rainbow and sunshine… for whilst she thought of how or when to proceed further, a gang of men saw her.

They show fake sympathy on their faces, thinking she was lost… and who wouldn’t grab such opportunity after all? A seemingly gorgeous homeless maiden walking in the dark,  _ alone _ , in dirtied clothes, uncombed hair with such a beautiful face… oh the night is starting to get spicy for these unsatisfied men. 

But the intention had been clear to Elizabeth since they stalked towards her, the smell of alcohol and another scent she didn’t like dictates the truth and it  _ sickens  _ her. Uncle John had told her horrible stories; about the maiden of pure had been tainted with men’s treacheries and had ended up in the asylum, unable to handle such betrayal of her close friend and  _ brother _ . 

Elizabeth had seen that girl before too, walking merrily in their town, selling baked goods Elizabeth claimed to be her favorite,  _ used to be _ . Elizabeth considered that girl her friend, though their age was quite a gap, still Elizabeth bonded with the lass that worked so hard to help her father provide for their family.

And out of wrath and uncontrollable urge, she drank from the three men to satisfy the need and to keep their repulsive, disgusting hands from touching her further… to continue what they dared to do to a  _ child _ .

And she cried, though her eyes could no longer share tears, while she was filled with grief and guilt of the desire… of the satisfaction to see such people dead by her hands. 

It was when he found her.

“Ah, living the  _ life, _ huh, my dear?”

Elizabeth learned to mimic those lions’ growls.

“You’ve grown from the last time I saw you.” Dracula continued casually, “More restraint, so in control of what newly born as yourself shouldn’t be able to harbor… and _you’re_ still just a child. And though we need to do something about that temper of yours, I still can overlook that flaw and see the beauty.” And he sighs as the girl he chose as his own didn’t even glance his way. His old, dead heart ached slightly. A ghost smile painted in his crinkle face. “You haven’t failed to amaze me.”

And while he was still ignored, Dracula grinned at what laid in front of him. “I like what you did to them. Rip their throats out and – _ oh _ , you even got this one to pieces.” He looked down at the supposed man, who was shredded to pieces like paper. “You’ve done such a masterpiece, my dear.”

Her growl grew louder and finally, Elizabeth faced Count Dracula like before. They stood in the same distance, the same hatred in her eyes and on his was his mocking smile. She stood as tall as she could, brazing red eyes meeting the tired, weak eyes of her sire. 

And he smiled again, though his grace wasn’t tacky, there’s a hint of limpness. But the hunger from his lack of feeds had faded with the girl’s presence, his world strictly focused on the beautiful creature bestowed to him.

Elizabeth noticed the look he’s giving her quickly yet cannot distinguish it right. If it had been her parents that looked at her that way, she’d be confident to tell that it was love in those eyes, but this man that stood before her was a stranger, the person that  _ destroyed  _ her life.

She stared at him with knitted eyebrows soon, unsure of what this could mean.

“I know, I know, not my best look.” He drones on, taking the way the girl was inspecting him otherwise than what’s actually intended, “I haven’t fed for a while, unlike  _ someone _ .” He murmurs, his hand combing his white hair back.

She growled in response.

And this seems to irritate the ancient now. “Will you stop acting like an  _ animal? _ ” he hissed.

“And why shouldn’t I treat you like any other?” Elizabeth barked back.

And Dracula seems to have lost his senses to hear that  _ lovely  _ sound for the first time. He hadn’t heard her speak back before, and now that he heard her voice, it melted his every sense, blanked his mind, and filled him with desire. Dracula groaned. 

“My, my,  _ my, _ I hadn’t expected this.” He licks his lips.

Elizabeth’s growls were her only reply.

“Such a beautiful voice,” Dracula gasped and felt himself shivers, “it does things.” And, controlled by instinct, to claim and sniff of that seducing smell clung to the girl’s skin, he zoomed in to take the girl around his arms, only for Elizabeth to avoid him like a disease. 

“Don’t you dare go near me, you old zounkerkite!” Elizabeth hissed, continuously growling. “I will behead you if you dare step any closer again.”

He shivered; awed by that melodious voice –well, aside from the growl that snaps Dracula away from his pleasant haze. “Hmm.” he sulked, though the look was erased by a taunting smile as he felt the effect starting to reduce away from his senses as Elizabeth kept silent. Dracula was able to think again. “Very well, I’ll heed your order, my dear,  _ if  _ you accept my side of the bargain.”

Dracula took her lack of answer as a sign to continue. 

“I will respect your wishes only if you listen and let me talk.”

“Why do you think I would want to listen to you?” Elizabeth renounces. Her mood of constant rage and the need to kill this fool was overwhelming. She had killed tonight already; despite the reason behind her sin, still, Elizabeth cannot handle to be bewitched by her own instinct any longer.

Ignoring how pleasurable the girl’s voice is (husky, seductive, so many words to describe that sound), Dracula started “Because I…” as he grinned wide, knowing well he caught her around his web, “have the answers to your questions.”

Elizabeth stilled, debating if she should really risk it and stay. 

Who knows what the vampire planned but the drive to have answers were just as tempting as blood. And Elizabeth realized that, that the old fool was her only source of answers, he had the answers to help her understand this new world, her new self. She knew she had no choice; it’s either to be forever a slave to instinct or… set some options for herself. 

“Do you want to know why I let you live?” Dracula baited, “And why, that night, did I let you drink my blood?”

Elizabeth tensed, remember that night so well, the taste of metallic flavor that filled her mouth before blanking out completely… it was his blood?

“And you must be wondering too. How come your mother drives to dry mortals  _ every  _ night whilst you were able to stay and resist the hunger? Surely these thoughts have crossed your mind.” And as he paused to take in the girl’s reaction, Dracula was pleased when  _ she was listening _ to him. “I've mentioned such oddities and wondered how come you’re aware of your humanity when the change should have erased them completely.

“The pain should have affected you, made you lose your memory, yet…  _ your control _ .” Dracula was astounded; even Elizabeth could see it in his blooded colored eyes. “Truly you were meant for this life! Look at you, my dear! Standing in battle of your own nature, as a newborn you could have raged and killed people in mile radius, yet here you are, unbothered by the beating hearts that dwell so close. I’m almost jealous.”

“How dare you!” she roared, anger filling her up and her body shook to take needed action to punch, to hit  _ something _ , kill  _ someone! _

A disapproving look cross the man’s face as he berates “Must you disrespect me constantly with your brute and primal sounds?! I am offering you my hospitality, my honesty, yet you defy even a slight of kindness. Disgraceful, hadn’t your  _ sweet  _ beautiful mother ever taught you to respect your elders?” 

“I HAVE RETAINED MY OWN SELF-RESPECT BY TOLERATING YOUR PRESENCE!” her voice boomed heatedly, fury raging in her red eyes, hatred burning on her marble body. 

‘ _ How dare he talk about my mother! _ ’ her internal voice chides. 

“And what would you know about respect,  _ Sire _ .'' The sarcastic tone wasn’t missed, making Dracula almost snarl in such disdain in the voice, something he had always faced but never been so hurt to hear. “I’ve grown up around people who knew it, who taught me that respect comes with love and care. They were the ones that built my moral high and right.” Elizabeth glared harder at the older vampire. 

Dracula was confused at the fire that flared on those red eyes, blazing as if the girl was willing them to burn  _ him _ under that gaze. But he kept still, stoic and observant, eyebrow furrowed as the girl stood as if higher than him… and Dracula almost laughed, prideful.

“So I tell you what I know about  _ respect _ , you vile man.” The girl continued on. “All there is to me is that I stand to do what I know is right to honor my  _ family whom I respect _ . I won’t lower myself over temporarily pleasing people as I abide to do wrongs.”

“And you think you haven’t done anything wrong?” he cackled, zooming suddenly closer again and sending a strike that hit Elizabeth by the head (an action done against his own protective instinct for the young vampire), making the girl fly a foot high and hit her back by a tree. He spits, “You’ve  _ killed _ , dear girl, and the evidence lies here.” He gestured to the bodies on the ground.

Almost as if unfazed by his assault, the girl casually stood back up.

“That I will not deny, and may the Lord forgive me for my doing.” The young vampire stated, looking impossibly prissy. But her tight smile soon disappeared as she fumed “But may he watch over the lives that I end out of fear and your mistakes, so I assure you, I hadn’t breathed without the guilt.” 

But Dracula was determined, keeping his cool in hope of not upsetting and hurting the girl further than he already had. But his beast was taking up the indication of challenge from its chosen, so Dracula growled more to show his dominance over her.

Again, she was unaffected.

And Dracula cannot believe this but he felt intimidated,  _ just  _ slightly so, as Elizabeth merely eyed him again, still like a statue. And he covered it with a laugh, a loud cackle that shows his amusement when the girl merely gruff at his act.

“Humans and their pitiful emotions.” he spits, “Truly, they’re nothing but pawns, just a feast of blood bags that we, vampires, can enjoy.” Dracula started. “They’re pitiful I say, their attachment to what they think makes them  _ human-y _ is enjoyable to watch as the decades pass by, but when you have them under fear, they’d do absolutely everything to stay alive, even kill their own family…”

The reaction was quick, when an inexperienced motion of attack tried to hit his jaw. The girl, changing her tactics seeing she couldn’t possibly hit the vampire by the face without being airborne, starts focusing on one point, the lower parts.

“But when I smelt you, I knew something had to be done. I did plan to  _ drain you  _ thoroughly, dear, but your willpower to  _ live  _ just made you such a fine candidate.” Elizabeth took another hit when Dracula sent a kick of his knee, hitting her by the stomach. “It’s all for the greater good, I say!”

She felt it on her abdomen, the pain that sent her off once again.

Yet she didn’t back down, still standing back to her feet and running towards him again to throw a punch. She hits him this time, directly at his chest; she continued to return the favor with brute and fueled anger when he falls down on his back at that impact. 

“You invaded my right for a normal life for your entertainment!” she yelled, straddling him, “You took my life away without consideration, mocked the morals my family had built and taught me. And you dared to intrude and claim it’s  _ all for the greater good?! _ ”

He only laughed, filled with high as his own body unable to harm the girl any further than he already had.

Elizabeth threw another punch, followed by a kick and a hissing sound. Her non beating heart felt relentless, shame and remorse collided whilst her own conscious now blamed herself for the faults that had been done to her family. To what used to be her perfect little life had been shattered by a greedy bloodsucker, by  _ this vampire _ that dared laugh at her, belittling her for the masses she cannot carry herself.

“You hurt my mother,”  _ punch _ “my father weeps every night on the thought of losing her,”  _ punch _ “and Uncle John had stressed himself night and day to find a cure with Dr. Van Helsing!” and despite her shouting, she could hear bones being broken with the impact of her fist. “Uncle Quincy even dared to go far as to offer blood transfusion at every chance to save her! But you –”  **_punch_ ** “you took her away from them,  _ took her from me! _ ”

“That’s it, let that anger fuel you.” He breathes as he is continuously being beaten, though Count Dracula wonders why the pain that should bother him wasn’t completely present in his senses. 

And as if listening to his words, Elizabeth had torn his arm in the progress. 

This surprises the both of them.

Dracula stared with widened eyes clenching his right, empty shoulder as Elizabeth backed away as she held his missing arm in the same level of disbelief. 

‘ _ Magnificent, you truly are, I say. _ ’ He smiled, and stood up before kneeling down in one knee as a sign of his surrender. He knew that newborns tend to express such strength, uncontrolled thirst comes along the package, and their instincts are wild and connected with their emotions.

But to be driven enough to be able to physically harm him?

No, that wouldn’t be possible.

Dracula had been as old, born with need of blood rather than bread and juice to sooth his hunger, with people so afraid of him and attacking Dracula out of fear of his difference to what was considered to be  _ human _ .

He might have been cursed or blessed, and whatnot, he didn’t know what he was before. But now, titled as a vampire, he cared not and merely continued to rein fears into people’s life as they did to his own. 

But if his old mind hadn’t deceived him, Dracula remembers how frightened he had been back then, confused, lost about the world, about what he has to consider as the truth. He remembers what thought he had in his first waking, a creature filled with raging questions.

He never got answers from anyone else; he had no choice but to make his own options.

So he might as well provide some now before he surrenders his life.

“I picked you,” He started, kneeling (still with grace) and smiling as tauntingly as he could despite his missing limb, “because of how much I envied the life in your eyes, how  _ much life  _ you shared with your people. I’ve watched you from the garden; your grandmother would smile at you always, filled with pride and love to watch you bloom into a smart girl with a lot of support and love from her family in return. In this generation, such cases are quite rare in a family. They always value honor before their people,  _ pathetic _ . 

“So I was so curious and watched you by the halls, and saw how those peasants become hopeful wherever you’re close by, the way everyone would grace upon your presence alone, and the strong bond and love your parents nurture for you, your family truly loves you.” 

And it might be just Elizabeth’s ears that are just deceiving her, but the vampire had started to speak so softly in the start of his speech, and it became low and soon sounded croaky, like a human that couldn’t breathe or close to crying.

“And you know that…” he sighed weakly, and, if it were to be possible, shame shone in his eyes. “Hence you’re so upset with me, the person who ruined everything. So I will bow down and rest my immortal life in your hand alone, for it hurts my heart for the only person I came to love to  _ hate  _ me.”

Confusion quickly morphed in Elizabeth’s face, and she backed away in surprise to hear the confession. The genuine of it, the truth that those eyes spoke, it made Elizabeth feel as if she walked upon a twilight zone, and she still… feeling pitiful despite how much she wanted to take advantage of what had been given to her so willingly.

He laughed as he inspected her reaction. “You must understand, even a person like I, could still be humane and feel, so don’t be afraid, you shan’t lose your own humanity over the course of your change.” He implies, baring his teeth as he cackle humorlessly. All of those years of ruling, living, Count Dracula couldn’t believe what fate had led him to. 

Perhaps this was the Goddess Karma’s works. 

“Do not let shame and guilt blind you, for you pick your hunt so well.” His eyes dropped to the bodies and grinned, “You are too powerful even for a child, so headstrong and carry such willpower. As I said, my love, you are meant for this life rather than being a human.”

And it’s funny, how things are ending up. For the long lost love he had searched for, dreamed for, prayed for… it just had to be a child who wouldn’t be willing to reciprocate the aching in his undead heart.

If you’ve thought that those thousand years of living would have taught him what patience is, then you’re greatly mistaken. “I should have waited until you’re older.” He murmured, tired and feeling how weak he’s becoming. “I know… I know I should have…”

And he meets the girl’s pitiful eyes that, despite their circumstances, were sympathizing with him.

“I could not bear to ask for forgiveness, for even I know how my mistakes are measured. I've gone too far… and blithely done them.” And still kneeling, he gave his peace offering “So instead, I propose you to have my blood, drink them all and you will get your answers, they will help you grow and adjust swiftly, and that your thirst may never bother you too much.”

“I would never –!”

Dracula cuts her off with a soft “No, my love. My life is already to come to an end, your family seeks vengeance for your death and your mother’s and they are destroying every source of my life foundation, and they will soon find me and end me. You’ll be doing me a favor by heeding this request, I advise that you do not waste this chance.” 

Elizabeth really did consider, still in her spot as she stared down at the begging man. She’s unsure, that’s for certain, but (you might not accept as true) she believes the man, whatever reason that caused that feeling was coursing through her veins.

She walks towards him,  _ slowly _ .

And red eyes looked at her, shining tears that couldn’t fall. She knew that, somehow, they cannot truly cry because she‘s been trying to release the pain while she was on the run. 

“And I beg that you’ll regard that after you’re done, you must bring me back to my coffin, let them believe that they have finished me off. At least, this peace could heal them from remorse and help you move on.” And Dracula, waiting for his fate, had scratched his neck deeply to draw blood. 

Elizabeth’s eyes darkened.

“Please say you do.” Dracula pleaded, “I wish to hear your voice just this once again.”

And though her mind still recounts her hatred and anger, every lost, she heeds it and murmurs “I will, out of the little respect I can lend you. And may you rest in peace.” And when Elizabeth’s fang finally sunk in, the ancient vampire finally closed his eyes one last time with a grateful smile crossed his face.


	4. Shall be God

**Chapter 3**

Everything that happened had been bizarre.

Her mind had been set to a haze, and after that delicious moment, she was like in a trance. 

She obeyed the wish of the old vampire; she set him back to his coffin (she had to be  _ very  _ careful with the mission, seeing that she had to avoid waking the coachman and the other two guards as she hast to bring him inside the moving coach), and on his face was an expression accepting his peace as Elizabeth closed his cradle, before setting some distance so the horses would no longer be in distress of her presence, though she had stayed close to witness everything.

As she waited, she took her time to realize that her  _ sire  _ hadn’t lied to her.

Drinking his blood had been like reading a thousand books all at once. Though, it was merely her seeing through his eyes. His experience had seemingly been passed down to her, and Elizabeth felt him as herself. It’s quite scary as she ponders more of it, more of him as a newborn like her.

The way people had treated him, how scared they were of the boy who just learned to control his thirst, to hide from the daylight seeing how people freaked out just by seeing his eyes, how he learned to camouflage himself in the dark seeing he had no choice.

How weak he became when he refused himself the blood his own body ached for.

The way he accidentally created another by his venom alone, and how much wreck it was to take care of whom he sired in their newborn years… as well as how different Dracula compared to his creations – _ children  _ as he called them. 

For while he stayed unbothered by the light of the sun, some of them burned, some of them  _ sparkled _ . And under his wisdom, she found out why. Why she was like Count Dracula, why he looked at her with fascination.

Those children of his were only turned by his venom only after he drank from them, while she, on the other hand, had exchanged with the vampire, she realized. Her blood is exchanged for his. Her turning was perfected while the others, the ones Dracula had changed himself, were… halfway,  _ incomplete _ .

And after Dracula’s experiments, he finally found solitude in his castle, to lure prey instead of hunting for them. And it was when he finally decided to reign instead of hiding after all those years of loneliness and prayers to Gods, how he searched for answers. 

And Elizabeth, cursing her young heart, had begun to sympathize more with this being she’s getting to know from head to toe. And she found herself mourning for him when she realized that he truly did  _ love  _ her. Though he had been right, she cannot fathom his feelings nor will she ever return them.

And following the coach, she heard heavy footsteps rushing closer, coming in from the woods. Horses, she figured. And from the frames of trees ascend four, and they were indeed horses. Riding each was her father, Arthur, her uncles, John and Quincy, with an unnamed stranger that charged their ambush. 

This was the very first time she saw them in her new form. 

Her father had never looked determined and angry as he fought with his sword; the polite and gentle Englishman was no more as he fought with intention, to give both her uncle John and the unnamed stranger some time to get to Count Dracula’s coffin. And her Uncle Quincy fought by her father’s side, though just after the unnamed stranger beheaded the unsuspecting (but already dead) vampire, a spear had gone through his ribs.

Elizabeth gasped as he was taken by surprise, but had unintentionally smelt his scent that still reached her despite this thoughtful distance she put between them. And as venom filled her mouth, she knew she had to get away. 

She may carry the ancient’s memory now, it still hasn’t taught her how to  _ resist  _ if she must. The need to come running there to check for his uncle, to make sure he’ll live.

But… she finally ceases to hold on from the past, taking the moment as closure, and left, knowing well how the night would end for her uncle, for her father, for her family. And she prayed that this would also help them find finality, be free from this fate that had been bestowed to each of them.

And that night as she ran away again, she thought of all the days when she was still young,  _ human, _ with her family. The way her healthy mother, Lucy, would spend time with her in their library to read and, on rare occasions, her father joining them. 

And they will play in the garden then after tea, and how her father looks down on her proudly as he tells her how Elizabeth will be the Mistress of his foundations, of their household when she marries the right boy of her choice, like Lucy did.

When her uncle Quincy let her hold a gun for the first time, with his Texan accent that always makes her laugh, and those time when her uncle John would tell her about his days in the asylum, how many patients he was taking care of there and how they were recovering… of how much they were becoming worse.

She remembers how she was just little when her grandmother would tell her stories before sleep, sometimes her mother Lucy would join or fill in if her grandmother was gone...

As far as her legs could go, Elizabeth remembers her head hurting so much,  _ too much, _ and the red line that appeared before her, enveloping her… before she finally lost consciousness.

* * *

Dawn had crept in, the forest rejoiced as the sun finally brought them to safety from the darkness, and in celebration the trees danced with the fresh breeze of air. Animals come out of their hiding, happy to see another day once again.

And an early bird knows this fact too, as she stretched her bow and targeted an oblivious, feeding deer.

But a cry made her lose her shoot.

The deer, now alarmed, run away from the hunter.

She clicked her tongue, a bit frustrated to lose the healthy adult deer that could have lasted her for two days, before jumping down the tree she was hiding on. But when she merely set to continue on finding another hunt before her hunger surfaced, she was again called out by another cry in the woods.

Frowning, determined that the cry was humanly, she followed the sound through the forest and soon found a…  _ baby _ .

She was warmed up by clothes, a white dirtied dress, that couldn’t fit her yet. And looking around, no adult seems to be around the infant. And the huntswoman frowned as a set of red eyes looked up to her so childishly, yet the depth of them held… maturity she cannot fathom such a child could carry.

And with a sigh, she picks the little girl up before looking around once again, checking for any lookers, any adults that may claim the child as theirs. Yet no one came… even after she waited for so long. Not willing to leave a child (the sudden need to protect clicked to her), the huntswoman carried the girl back to her shelter, back to a little place she can call her home.

But as she returned, with the child holding on to her in complete silence, she had one thought in mind; how can she take care of a baby?

A huntswoman like Achsah had lived alone since she her family had been killed by a strange beast that appeared in a night of full moon, and she was the only one able to live since her father had left her under the house, and that she didn’t hasten to get out like her brothers did after thinking that the beast was gone. In the end, the beast was merely stalking the house outside, waiting for them to come out.

And ever since that day, after digging and burying her family, she lived alone with no human connection for decades. Not that she avoided her own kind, it’s only because that no one had ever dared to enter the forest anymore after those attacks, especially at the depth she had terrorized.

So it was a mystery that a baby had ended up in her woods.

So, again, how could she take care of said baby?

She placed the child on the hammock, and the infant’s attentive eyes continued to watch her as she tried to find some cloth to wrap around the child so the cold wouldn’t get too much. The infant was already  _ cold  _ after all. And she backs away and stops after taking two steps back.

And such oddity, those pairs of red eyes. Honestly, Achsah felt… unsettled (which is so rare for her to feel) by the way the child was looking at her…  _ watching her _ … and remembering her own father teaching, it was the way a predator watched a prey. 

But that was something bizarre,  _ surreal _ , for what could a child like her could know about the world, about how dangerous Achsah could be compared to her? Shaking her head, Achsah left to hunt, to get something she  _ and  _ the infant could eat before either of them starved.

Elizabeth has no idea what’s happening.

She doesn’t understand, a night before she was running and now, woken up by a sniffing, furry ball (a rabbit, she just realized that), she finds herself little with small hands and feet. She screamed out of shock to have the little guy jumping around her back in the woods, it looked  _ so big _ compared to her and her yelp must have surprised the fur ball too since it hops away from her after.

And then, the human shows up and brought her here… and practically left her alone here.

Why did she shrink? 

How did she become small and  _ a baby _ ?

Okay, she needs to recap on this.

What happened last night?

She killed three human guys, drunk from them, met with Count Dracula once again, his confession, and then having their finality when she drank his blood. And then, she returns him completely to his coffin where her father, and her uncles and that stranger among her family, behead Count Dracula as the ancient vampire had predicted they would.

And her running as far as she could when her uncle Quincy got attacked from behind, dying by a spear on his rib. 

And that headache that comes…

And after… there was a red yarn and it indulged her all over… before she finally fainted.

So the question now is… why? Why did that knock her out?

‘ _ Wait _ …’ Elizabeth frowned. Before that headache, Elizabeth was recounting her human days, thinking of her family.

Did… was that why… was that what changed… her?

Her perfect memory was vivid after all…

But that’s impossible!

‘ _ … Is it? _ ’

* * *

She’s irritating the woman.

Elizabeth knew she was, but what could she possibly do now?

She did try to eat the dang meat, but it was filthy in her mouth, tasted so  _ vile _ . And she tried to drink the milk, but she also hurled that out after. So in conclusion, she could only digest blood. But Elizabeth couldn’t tell that to the woman, because of two reasons (one, being that she’s  _ supposed to be  _ a baby, and two, she cannot tell the human that she’s a vampire and has the possibility that she'd scare off the only company she has).

So… she never did.

And it was maybe a month that the huntswoman finally stopped trying.

None of them talk much, Elizabeth still unable to figure out how she could reform back to her  _ much  _ older body and the woman as a lonely hunter, sans those times the woman beckons her with “No”, “Stay”, and “Please” when the time comes.

_ Achsah –  _

Elizabeth finally learned her name after a week of them being together, when the woman kneeled in front of her after hours of just standing with a very respective distance between them, just staring at her like as if the huntswoman was trying to distinguish what Elizabeth really is. She pointed to herself before stating her name  _ – _

–would sometimes mumble in a foreign language, which Elizabeth soon picks up with the use of Dracula’s memory, and finds that Achsah actually thinks of her as… a god that got recently reborn.

Her evidence was Elizabeth’s old clothes that were too large for her, the lack of need to eat what a human needed to live, her unusual red eyes and the depth it holds. And that an infant like Elizabeth is being able to understand her… 

The huntswoman investigation led her to such a funny conclusion, yet Elizabeth –still stuck on her baby form –was unable to correct Achsah, despite how much she thought it over.

Elizabeth had grown to like Achsah, the fierce, lonely huntswoman was very caring to her, had taken care of her like a mother –and Elizabeth would know, because she could remember Lucy vividly, and how much of a loving mother the young woman was. 

Honestly, she’s grown scared to lose Achsah’s company.

Achsah would hold Elizabeth at night, when asleep, and Elizabeth would close her eyes too, like she was sleeping. She, wholeheartedly, appreciates the hunter’s warmth, it lets Elizabeth pretend she’s still human that needs heat on the cold night. And it makes her smile, laugh in the morning, and she’d wake up Achsah that way –and sometimes, she’ll see the huntswoman smile too, even just a little.

And about fortnight, Elizabeth noticed that she managed to enlarge herself a little bit unintentionally. 

That morning after, she was no longer an infant but a toddler that’s now able to walk on her own feet. Of course, this had surprised the huntswoman, for how quick her growth was another evidence of Elizabeth’s dissimilarity to humankind, but after her astonishment passed, Achsah had decided to bring her along for a hunt. 

Seeing that her new form truly needed some clothing other than a blanket, Achsah hunted a tiger and skinned it. She gathered more materials too and crafted Elizabeth some clothing of her own. Elizabeth appreciated the gesture and was laughing and giggling childishly when they got home.

‘ _ Home…would this be my new home now? Achsah… Achsah, will she be my new family? _ ’

It was what Elizabeth had been pondering the whole day, and the passing days after, and Elizabeth decided not to ponder on it too much, that she’ll let fate decide.

And again tonight, as the bonfire cooks Achsah’s newly hunt, Elizabeth was comfortably placed between the hunter’s legs and together, they watched the fire in complete silence like they usually spent the time. Yet, this night was different.

Elizabeth was listening to Achsah’s heartbeat when the hunter suddenly spoke.

“ _ Family… _ ” Achsah started speaking in the foreign language of her tongue, and, surprised, Elizabeth looked up to her. Achsah met her red eyes that patiently waited and she continued “ _ My family’s death was caused by a beast. _ ”

Elizabeth eyes widen at the report, mouth opening for an unneeded gasp.

“ _ It first appeared on us here in our farm, devouring our animals one by one. My father had suspected a pack of wolves, for we could hear howling at night, in each full moon. We began to starve as the attacks continued, so my father taught my brothers and me about hunting so we could survive the month. _ ”

‘ _ Full moon? _ ’ pondered Elizabeth, frowning, in what she knows –in use of  _ Dracula’s _ memories _ – _ only one creature can be affected by the moon.  __ ‘ _ It can’t be… _ ’

“ _ When finally _ ,” Achsah sighs, Elizabeth can feel how the woman tense suddenly, “ _ the beast had nothing else but us to kill. _ ”

Elizabeth heard how much Achsah’s heartbeat quickens, and she smelt the woman’s fear as Achsah’s eyes began to look distant as she continued to watch the bonfire.

“ _ My father left us to hide underneath our house, and he had faced the beast alone. And for hours, we waited until my brothers thought it was gone, that it was safe to come out… but they were wrong. _ ” 

Elizabeth couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and to make it worse, Achsah started to quietly cry while telling her story. Elizabeth stood in front of the woman and cupped her cheeks, feeling her undead heart sympathizing, mourning for what Achsah had lost. __

“ _ I was the only one that stayed under the house until I was sure that there was daylight. _ ”

And unsure of what to say, Elizabeth watched the huntswoman with understanding eyes, knowing what Achsah is going through. And taking a glimpse of the sky, Elizabeth realizes why the hunter was telling her this now. The moon was… full.

“ _The beast never did come here again after that night, perhaps thinking no one was left… but…_ ” Achsah continued, and her now determined eyes found Elizabeth’s confused ones, “ _before you –before I found you, there had been some signs of possibility that… that it might be back._ ”

And as if it was just now taking its cue, a howl comes from the distance.

And Achsah tensed further and Elizabeth eyes hardened as she could practically smell Achsah’s fear, could feel the slight shaking, and how short her breathing became. But the determinate look on her face didn’t falter at all, as if she was actually expecting this whole scenario.

And maybe Achsah did.

Because she water the fire and left the bonfire, entering the house then before hurriedly put Elizabeth under the house using the hidden passage she hadn’t used for decades. 

_ “Stay.” _ She beckoned Elizabeth and when the girl looked up to her in confusion, Achsah ignored it and hurried back to the stairs, returning to the ground floor and gathering her arrow and crossbow.

She loaded it and waited, keenly alert and ears listening for any sounds. 

Elizabeth could hear it, its growl, its footsteps, its breathing, the gruff and huffing. It’s smell sticks with dried blood and the forest; as if they bathe in some mud on their way here. And she could literally smell its  _ bloodlust _ as it neared. And how quick was Achsah’s heart beating, almost booming.

It was coming closer.

Stalking and devouring, Elizabeth can hear the tear of flesh outside, the meat that Achsah had left behind on the bonfire. And the  _ beast _ begins to claw the door open.

Elizabeth had to do something – _ thud – _ she had to help Achsah – _ thud _ –but Elizabeth was still stuck in this useless form! Achsah couldn’t win against that determined beast, Elizabeth had to do something, anything, to be strong and able to  _ tear  _ that monster into pieces so it could never harm Achsah ever again.

She will not sit still here whilst Achsah continued to shake and her phenomenon shouting just how scared she was. ‘ _ I need to do something… I need to… protect my human! _ ’ and suddenly, there was red everywhere, and without content, it wrapped itself around Elizabeth, indulging her.

And just as the door was broken down, Achsah held her breath as the beast met her eyes. There, by the door, stood a humanoid wolf standing on two feet, skin fill-in with dark blue fur and mouth baring sharp, watering teeth. And dark eyes peered through my hungry gaze.

And imagine her surprise when suddenly, someone stood between her and the beast.

Elizabeth now stood in front of the huntswoman and she knew she reformed again, this time, taller, firmer, and _ stronger _ as she faced the beast eye to eye. 

And the fight starts when the werewolf charges in, opening its mouth to bite, only for Elizabeth to take hold of his jaws and circled them, throwing the beast off balance and throwing it outside.

Elizabeth glances over behind her, checking Achsah who watched with open mouth and disbelieving eyes.

And the beast saw this as a moment of weakness, a chance, and had successfully bit Elizabeth by her shoulder –resulting Elizabeth to scream for the pain she didn’t expect to feel. And seeing how much of her pain affected Achsah, Elizabeth felt herself roar and stance readied to return in focus of this fight. 


	5. Moment for us (humans)

**Chapter 4**

Tangled body lay unmoving on the floor; bathe in its own blood that Elizabeth wouldn’t dare sip in distaste. And her own wounds make her weak, and the delicious smell of human blood tempts her greatly, it sings to her nose and venom waters her mouth.

Elizabeth stood up, flinching at the wounds she now bare after the fight of claws and jaws. 

The dang beast was powerful, but was too aggressive in its tactic, blinded, which she adapted as advantage. The werewolf was mostly focused on the kill, Elizabeth’s human, and wasn’t willing to give up. The only way Elizabeth had been able to finish it was to pierce through its beating heart in finality.

But the human had been hurt along the result, arms clawed by the beast, thankfully wasn’t bitten.

And Gods, the  _ smell  _ of her blood… 

‘ _ No, I lasted a month, I won’t lose control now _ !’ Elizabeth scolds herself, her small, childlike body slowly walking, still in pain from the bite of the werewolf. And she smiles, because if she’s right, this will kill her.

And she will open her arms once more, hoping that, finally, she’ll die.

But not yet, right now, her human needed saving. Gritting her teeth, ignoring the poison of her enemy, she held Achsah’s hand. The woman was gaping at her, still clenching her bleeding wound, but had all of her focus on a bloodied appearance.

Red eyes glints, unbelievable strength and speed, pointy teeth bore in open, and her capability to change her body’s form and age. Achsah had been right; this girl in front of her was no human after all. And weakly as she could, she smiled at the girl –the young woman that stood beside her. “ _ Young one… _ ”

“Achsah.” And more proof, for Achsah never heard such a melodious voice as hers, almost too much that she began to tear up. 

And the dying huntswoman blinks at the stoic face that looks down at her –‘ _ So beautiful, at least she will be the last face I’ll see instead of that beast…’ _ she thought, and tears continued to fall. 

“You will live, Achsah.” 

Achsah blinks, and those seconds were all it took for Elizabeth to pick her up and throw Achsah over her shoulder before making a run for it. On their hunt just this morning, Elizabeth had become aware of the human heartbeat not so far away (yet it’ll probably take her half an hour or so to get there) and she hopes that they will be able to save her human before it’s too late.

And voices, human chattering becomes clear as she stays in the frame of the forest trees. She lay Achsah down, making sure that the woman was still awake and let her lean on a tree as she kneel in front of the huntswoman. And to see the woman weakly looking at her, Elizabeth screamed out “Help! Please help!”

And she knew then by the following footsteps that nearing, Achsah will be okay.

“Achsah,” the huntswoman murmurs, voice low and weak, and Elizabeth frowns in wonder as she watches Achsah try to lift her shaking hand before pointing at her own self, “Achsah.”

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she caught on and had a bright smile at the hunter. She points at herself, “Elizabeth.”

And it was beautiful, how the light returned to Achsah’s eyes by that mere implication. 

“We will see each other again, Achsah.” Elizabeth placed a kiss on the woman’s temple, “You will live.”

And in the blink of an eye, Elizabeth was gone again. Just in time for the people near the village to find Achsah and carry her back to their quarters whilst calling for some medics in their group. 

Elizabeth hadn’t entirely left, she stalked by the trees and followed the humans and watched as Achsah was retrieved from the edge of death and is now comfortably put in accommodation and care of her people. And when the day was finally ending, Elizabeth had decided to go, assured that the huntswoman would be fine under the care of the humans.

And while she was spying by the top of the trees, she found a mountain in the horizon and decided; if she was to die, she would appreciate a journey up there. So she did. Her clothing was wrecked; the sudden change of her body’s shape and size had ruined the tiger skin Achsah had made her, sadly. But she didn’t care about her appearance anymore and had focused on heading towards her waiting death.

In Dracula’s memory that she now owns, it was that a vampire’s weakness was a werewolf bite. Though the man himself didn’t seem to experience the bite personally, some of his children did and he had watched a few of them wither and scream their agony because of the pain until their casualty.

And as she walks as humanly as possible, Elizabeth wondered… if she’ll be like them too.

But as the days went on, as she continued to walk, the only pain she recognized was the burn of her throat and that only bothered her when she smelt a human nearby. She wouldn’t have actually smelled the human, not if she didn’t follow the seemingly red thread that sudden appeared in her sight.

It was thin, merely flying along with the wind, and why she followed it was… unexplainable. She remembers its constant appearance, and how it was the cause that changed her body. As she follows the thin red line, she  _ smelt it _ . Someone was bleeding, and they were bleeding  _ a lot _ . And before she knew it, Elizabeth had postponed her journey to stalk her newly found prey. 

An old man was leaning against a tree, shaking hands trying his best to write on the book he was clenching on. His scent was alone, and having no one from miles to find them made the temptation more accessible. 

‘ _ But he’s already dying… _ ’ a voice on her mind encouraged, ‘ _ Either that I’ll run back and hope that I’d make it back on that little village to save him or I could just… end it here _ .’

Each choice had its pros and cons. 

“I-I know you’re in there, you soulless creature.” gritted the old man, finally finished with his writing and now busying himself in clenching the gash in his chest. 

And as the creature, calm and stoic, steps out of the trees, he gasps at the sudden beauty, but a man like him knows of the terrors of red eyes. “Vampire.” He hissed with distaste, squirming slightly as his wounds began to worsen. But he quickly took notice of the daylight around them, the sun that was hitting the vampire’s skin… and how unaffected she is.

“I could help you.”

He bellows a laugh, keeping his act unfazed, “Help me how? Bite me and drain the heck out of me, you blood sucker?” 

“No.” the vampire shook her head gently, “There’s a village a bit far away and, if you’d allow, I could bring you there and have the people help you with your wounds.”

The offer wasn’t the one that surprised him –he had encountered her alike so many times, proposing him with fake hospitality, only to show their true forms at the strike of night time –no, no, but instead, it was her voice.

He grew in a tough way, having to lose his family in the hands of the  _ red eye ones _ that his tribe had told to them so many times. And he met a young man that held a purpose to extinguish them after the attack, and he had grown up doing the same deeds to save innocent lives.

So you could say that he held expertise whenever these soulless creatures faced him.

Yet, the eyes that looked down on him… they knew sympathy, it held humanity that became so rare to see –even in humans –and her voice offered only genuine generosity.

“W-who are you…?” he choked out, coughing after.

“I am Elizabeth … however, I cannot fathom still if I am allowed to carry my family’s name any longer.” The red eye one introduced her with a small, sadden smile, while still unmoving from her spot.

“You… do you have a family?”

“Yes,” the vampire nodded, eyes becoming distant though she still continued to say “although, only my father managed to stay human while my mother and I were forced to become…  _ this _ .” And she must have noticed that he became tense and tried to assure him of her lonesome with an implication of “Worry not, I am on my own. My mother had been diseased, beheaded, when my father and uncles had realized what she had become. And I will soon follow her in death.”

He frowned at this information, and understanding his confusion, the vampire merely gestured the huge bite mark on her arm, which is almost torn but still movable, it seems.

Wincing at the pain still inflicted on him, he still manages to murmur “A werewolf’s bite?” before he became a coughing case. 

And as if it pains her to watch him, she could only nod before looking away.

He begins to consider.

It was all new to him, for all of his years of facing beast and vampires alike, all of them showed him instant bloodlust, the urge  _ to kill _ , which he returned fiercely, only in his mind was the knowledge of desire to  _ do good _ , to  _ save  _ life. 

But this girl in front of him had shown him only curiosity and worry,  _ pain _ to see him in such a dying state. And there’s a look on those eyes that remind him of his own grandfather that would whisper to him that he shouldn’t listen to his father too much, that no one was ever deserving of the permission to take life.

And this girl… despite the undead heart on her chest… there is life in her eyes still.

And such an ironic thing it was, that both of them will die in the same cause, because of a savage werewolf.

“And I can smell that it had been the same werewolf that gave you your injury.” The vampire girl inserted, understandingly before she inserted “It stalked and tried to attack my human last night.”

“Your – _ cough – _ your human?”

“Yes.” Elizabeth nodded. “She lived in solitude among the woods, far from here, in an old, unstable farm house. It’s been destroyed by my encounter with the werewolf. The village I’ve mentioned is where I left her to recover. She hadn’t been bitten… unlike you…”

“Hah.” grunt the vampire hunter. 

Elizabeth can recognize his appearance, the way of his clothing and the hidden stake in his coat. Somehow, this man had once met Dracula and managed to survive. Aaron is his name. Aaron the Vampire Slayer is his title among the human nations.

“Unbelievable, how ironic this is. My last minute of life was spent under the pity of my sworn enemy. And what’s worse, I’ll either die or survive, only to be cursed as a werewolf.” The man looked her dead in the eyes, on his way life slowly drifting away, “Kill me now, bloodsucker, don’t let me become those beast.”

“But I could just –”

“No!” he bellowed, and coughs again as his own blood tickled out of his deep wound and as he hurled some of it. 

Elizabeth had to stop breathing to tolerate the presence of the blood, still hoping to save the man if he would allow her to come closer. The stake he hides will end her… but why hadn’t she taken the chance? That she cannot yet comprehend, so does the red threads holding her by her wrist. 

“I will welcome this death! I wanted this death since the day I’ve seen my tribe, my friend, my entire family bathe in their blood! Don’t you understand? Are you truly just a mindless bloodsucker!?”

Elizabeth blinks, surprised to see the man crying in his confession, and finally felt a pull tagging her hand. The red thread was now beckoning her to follow, and she tagged along with the pull. It led her by the side of the man. 

Aaron watched her with keen eyes, seeing the battle conflicting in her red orbs that looked down on him with sadness filling the color. She was hesitating still, but his pressure with his words was getting through her.

“Please.” He pleads, done with the façade of a vampire slayer he had created; done with being strong, done with dealing with the loneliness he carried all the years he had lived. “Let me see my family again. I’ve lived enough; I’ve waited long… be my way so that I could reunite with my loved ones finally. If you let me live, I will become a mere beast that will hunt innocent lives. And if you let that happen, I will  _ hunt  _ you down, you hear me?” 

Elizabeth could only nod. Convince, but it wasn’t making the task easier for her. She was being asked to kill… something she’s trying to convince herself not to do.

“You can do it, just end me. I can see it in your eyes; you’re not like the others I’ve encountered. The fact that you can remember your human life… this proves to me that your kind has hope for a change of heart…” He begins to curl to Elizabeth’s cold touch, exposing his neck for her. “Don’t make me regret not putting a stake in your heart, vampire.”

And Elizabeth let out a whimper of pain as she watched him close his eyes and finally give in to the deed that had been bothering her throat.

A whisper of “Thank you.” signals the end of the vampire hunter’s heartbeat.

And if Elizabeth would have been able to cry, she would have. Instead, she dug a grave on the spot and as she buried him, she prayed… she prayed that this man could finally see his family once again.

And as she lingers on the grave, she notices the red yarn is still hovering around her. ‘ _ Curious thing… _ ’ Elizabeth pondered, reaching out to touch it, and was astonished again that it didn’t avoid her. Interesting thing is that Elizabeth cannot feel the yarn at all, it’s just like touching air. And what’s shocking her is that it once again wraps itself around Elizabeth’s wrist, up to her elbow, covering most of her skin.

And that area became tingly, as if something feathery was being brushed in her skin, and she watched in awed horror as the thread began to untangle… revealing a skin unwounded. The bite of the werewolf was now gone, not a trace of it.

“How in God’s name…”

Elizabeth inspects it, touching the part of her arm hesitatingly. The pain that lingered there was now gone, as if it was never there in the first place. No scar tainted the skin either.

“Just what are you…?” Elizabeth did feel a little silly, as if she was just talking to nobody.

But the thread had seemingly understood her, because it neared to her again, as if pointing at Elizabeth was its answer.

This made Elizabeth frown of course.

But before she could even question anything again, the thread held her by the wrist again, tugging her, beckoning to follow.

And with a last glance on the grave, Elizabeth decided to go along with the red thread.

* * *

The day was soon ending when she found a cave behind a waterfall.

She had been hiking the three point mountain and her new found companion; she now called the red thread… Red, because well… it was what came in her mind, had been kindly been leading her to it. But her journey didn’t stop there, when Red kept pulling her deeper into the cave.

Her breath was taken away when a sight of a temple, though it was ruined. Gold lay scattered and they glitter occasionally since there’s little light getting in, but what astounded her is the drawing in the walls, ancient story of a tribe perhaps? It’s clearly been abandoned, buried along with its purpose. 

The sound of water wasn’t far, she noted, and when Elizabeth came deeper into the temple to inspect, she saw where the water was coming from. Above, just dripping down to the cold ground.

‘ _ This is a good place to rest. _ ’

She settled close to a wall, leaning onto it and letting the water drip from her back since she’s unbothered by the cold. Taking several unneeded breaths, she begins to be mindful now that she lacks any distraction.

Here, she’s alone again, with nothing hunting her down, with no red eyes to meet, with no friend to entertain her, and specially no family to see again.

Her hand, Elizabeth stared down at it. Once wounded, close to being ripped from her body, but here it is now –fully functional, as good as new even.

What magic did she obtain to perform such a miracle? 

Is it even her doing in the first place?

Dracula’s memories could only answer the question she knows.

’ _ Dracula… _ ’ the chosen name he picked up seems so absurd. 

Though she hadn’t taken the time to completely go through what he generously gave her, she had several flashes of what he had gone through several times now. But now, with nothing to take her mind off it, Elizabeth decided that  _ now  _ would be a great start to get lost in another’s world. 

Closing her eyes, she let herself get lost in the memories.

‘ _ I think I prefer him as Peter. _ ’


End file.
